So, I didn’t read when or what I wrote last. This past year has been a game of highs and lows.

Right now, I’m feeling a combo of sad/happy. It’s weird how the mind works.

I was hospitalized for the first time, this month. Only for 3 days, but it was well needed. Confined to a certain area, no computer, or phone, Enclosed from any outside influences, only able to focus on the stories of other who you are with, and going to group sessions. Not just talk therapy, learning about the mind/body well-being, crafts & art, boundaries, and a whole bunch of things.

It’s almost scarier to be out. I keep thinking that I need to go back for longer.

It’s really weird though. It’s highly interesting the mass variety of mental illness. Everyone had different stories and histories than I could never imagine. Drug abuse, being molested as a child, going to war, unable to care for themselves because of a death of a loved one. Just a whole variety.

Normal doesn’t exist.

So, my mind. Right now. Both excited and scared. Like a child and their first day of school. Fight or flight. I’ve always been a flight-er. Running away from everything that scares me. Trapping myself in the house, safe from what the outside world would say about me. First day of kindergarten, hiding so good, my mom couldn’t find me for 2 hours. If you don’t try, you fail? If you try and fail, at least you tried. I’m starting to learn.

Yes, I used some sort of drug to avoid what I feared. I left inpatient treatment with a whole new outlook at life. I am so thankful for those who I was entrapped with. They really opened my eyes to the outside world, and humbled me a great deal.

Well, I am feeling ok, at the moment. This weekend, I basically slept through it. I don’t know if it’s my med change, but it’s like I’ll wake up, look at the clock and tell myself I can sleep another hour and then I wake up 5 hours later. I really throws me off, and then I feel guilty and just want to sleep anyways even though I don’t need to.

I wonder why the fuck I’m not improving. I wonder if it’s because I haven’t been on my new antidepressant that long yet, or if my mood stabilizer is even a good fit. I’ll hopefully talk to the doctor tomorrow.

My thoughts for work keep entering my mind. Thoughts of how dirty and clutter filled this house is. Represents my brain to the max. Thoughts of how shitty of a mother I am for sleeping so much and being unable to care for the for I cannot simply care for my mental wellbeing is driving me insane.

What can I do? I feel guilt and shame all around me. Every day I wake up anxiety ridden. Why have I fallen down so deep into the muck.

I should explain my title. During my check in this morning, I did my sentence “I am feeling ok but…” and the therapist was just like, “ok, stop it right there. You said this whole sentence explaining how ok something was, and then you were going to throw in that ‘but’, which means, devalue everything up until the ‘but’. And of course, sarcastic Amy goes, well “I’m a butthole” and then I was like “But the but is b-u-t and the hole is w-h-o-l-e.” It was kind of funny but of course, humor is my mask covering up my authentic self I believe.

Anyways, thanks for listening. Hopefully we can dig up some more of this gunk I have inside so I can think of returning to work sooner than later.

I am feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed. I don’t want to do shit. So much needs to be done but I can’t even fathom doing these things. When I think of them again, I tell myself “Oh, I’ll do that at 5.” Knowing full well, when 5 approaches, it sure isn’t going to change a thing.

What is this lack of motivation. It’s so much more saddening. I’ve spent a month in PHP, started to improve, and now going back down that slippery slop again.

I need to work, I need to be a great mother and role model for my children. It hurts this fucked up heart I have that I cannot even do these things.

People are for real dying and don’t want to, and I’m alive and wish I wasn’t.

What would I do if I got cancer? Would I be overjoyed that I would have a way out? A way out becuz I’m too big of a pussy to attempt my own demise. I’d do it wrong, my kids might miss me, yadda yadda yadda.

People die everyday and don’t want to.

WHY THE FUCKKKKKKKKKK CANT I BE HAPPY FOR BEING ABLE TO BE HERE? TO EMBRACE THE MOMENT, THE HERE AND NOW?

I feel so alone. I am numb, but I break so easily. Thoughts enter my mind and just destroy my being. Why is life so hard? Why can’t I be “normal” and have friends and lovers and be in relationships with people with meaning?

Why can’t I? I isolate for what? Cuz I’m scared of what people think. When I shouldn’t give a flying fuck.